


reel me in

by kuro49



Category: DC Cinematic Universe, DCU, Justice League (2017)
Genre: Intercrural Sex, M/M, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 13:35:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13812255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: It is not the kind of stop-start pause but a full body one that lasts all of three solid Mississippis when Arthur catches sight of the two suits carefully laid out on Bruce’s bed, looking like there is only one other place they can belong on.(It’s him.)





	reel me in

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Clean Up [Fanart]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13783404) by [marourin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marourin/pseuds/marourin). 



> so this is my part of my collab with [marourin](http://marourin.tumblr.com/post/171227998337/so-setsailslash-have-been-talking-about-what-if), who drew something FAB (go give her some love on tumblr too!!) and instead of just writing Arthur being forced to clean up to accompany Bruce to some function, i ended up writing accidental somnophilia. 
> 
> also, i am totally burning through every bad water pun the English language allows me to make.

 

Arthur Curry fights his own battles, always have, always will.

This one though is a little bit different. He takes two wide strides out of the connected bathroom before stopping all together. It is not the kind of stop-start pause but a full body one that lasts all of three solid Mississippis when his eyes catch sight of the two suits carefully laid out on Bruce’s bed, looking like there is only one other place they can belong on.

(It’s him.)

“This is divine punishment.” He admits to the empty room and refuses to let despair take over.

He knows why he agreed to this. He also knows he deserves every moment of this. But it doesn’t mean that he has to enjoy it even though he thoroughly enjoyed waking up in the early mornings of the day when the sun hasn’t even imagined to begin rising from the east, Bruce still passed out in his arms from another late night of patrol.

It isn’t like he has no self-control but he just can’t quite resist when his cock is already half interested and Bruce’s thighs are right _there_. The smear of his pre-cum guides the way as he draws out the push of his hips forward. The slide of his cock in between the tight clutch of Bruce’s thighs has his groan catching in his throat, nice and low, nice and slow as he fucks him easy and languid. It takes several thrusts before he feels Bruce stir, murmuring something in response in his half-asleep, half-aroused state that breaks off into a stuttering grunt when Arthur ducks his head down so his teeth can sink softly against the nape of Bruce’s neck. 

“Good mornin’ to you too, asshole.” Bruce says. It comes out rough, sounding wrecked before they are even starting and if that doesn’t make Arthur want, he doubts anything else can.

“Keep sleepin’ and just let me do all the work.” Arthur tells him in a murmur, bringing his hand from his hip to slip it within Bruce’s underwear to get him off too, wrapping his fingers around the base of his cock before dragging it out just the way he knows Bruce likes. 

Bruce has his head tilted back to rest against a shoulder, breathing coming ragged now and he likes it a lot with Arthur because Bruce doesn’t have to _ask_ to be used this way. “That’s easy for you to say.” 

He still manages to bite out a response before he is completely gone but Arthur isn’t listening anymore. When Arthur comes, he makes a mess between Bruce’s thighs while his hand leaves the same sticky wetness in between Bruce’s legs. The fact that he falls asleep before he gets the chance to clean both of them up is entirely his fault, he will own up to it without reserve.

This is also why Arthur finds himself here in the same bedroom, two days later and not eighty miles off of the coast of the closest ocean to Gotham Bay getting ready for a function he has no will to attend.

When Bruce comes in, Arthur is genuinely surprised he is not dressed to the nines, and it is like Bruce can read his mind.

“I’m not messing up my clothes to put you into yours.” Bruce explains as he picks up the suits, one in each hand, raises an eyebrow up long enough that Arthur gets a hint to turn to him so he can _look_. It takes one long second before he puts down the black one and makes the executive decision for the remaining one. “How do you want to do this?”

Arthur resigns to doing this the easier way because life is hard enough as it is.

“The sooner I get in this, the sooner I get out of it.”

Bruce almost smiles at that. “That’s the attitude.”

There is probably a better way of doing this, Arthur is pretty sure Bruce is rich enough so that he can _purposely_ get away without doing this.

But Arthur isn’t complaining when it is Bruce’s fingers running through his hair, tangling into the knots that never got combed out when he got out of the shower. It takes a little bit of force and a little bit of worn-thin patience neither one of them has but it gets done. And if that doesn’t make both of them feel just a little bit better, the fact that this hasn’t ended in blood already has Arthur thoroughly impressed.

They are standing in front of the mirror, Bruce with his hands tangled in Arthur’s tie this time while Arthur shoves his hands deeper into the suit jacket’s pockets in hopes that the rough treatment would make the obnoxiously purple fabric wrinkle in a tamed kind of revenge.

“What do you know? You actually clean up pretty nicely.”

Bruce stops only when he is satisfied with how the tie sits and if his hands stay just a little longer across Arthur’s chest than necessary, well, he just wants to be certain it is sitting _right_.

“Suck a dick, Wayne.”

They catch each other’s eyes through the mirror and the grin he throws him is a challenge wrapped very loosely between bared teeth. Bruce doesn’t sink to his levels (or to his knees) but only because they are already late and Bruce still has to put himself together for the function. But if it takes Bruce several beats longer to pull away completely from the press of Arthur’s back all along his front, neither one of them says a thing.

“Let’s take a raincheck on that.”

Arthur’s answering laugh is a quiet rumbling thing.

Just because Arthur Curry has always fought his own battles, it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t enjoy having someone there taking the brunt of the blows.

Out of the batsuit, Bruce still cuts an impressive figure in his bespoke suit. And if they step out of the car with their suits a little bit more rumpled than their current pristine state, Bruce Wayne has a habit of not missing a single step and taking it all in regular billionaire strides. He is so good at this act that he doesn’t even give Arthur a chance to feel out of his depth when he guides him along through all of it by the hand.

 


End file.
